I ran across this and thought, there never was a “happy me.” Old? Yes. But happy?
I wonder if, on another day, when a different version of me lives, I will claim I’ve experienced all the joy in the world?
Not knowing who you’ll be, what version, on any given day is because of the trickster, Bipolar. I would bet all my money my answers to these kinds of questions will vary day by day. If that’s true, how do I trust anything? I know I can trust God. I know I can trust a few family members and dear friends. That’s what I *know* but not how I always *feel!* With BP, I often must trust what I know even when I do not feel it.
What are your thoughts?